<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Furside by nojoking</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23697523">Furside</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/nojoking/pseuds/nojoking'>nojoking</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Sharing Knife - Lois McMaster Bujold</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 18:21:21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>642</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23697523</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/nojoking/pseuds/nojoking</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>So the inside skinside's outside and the furside's outside her side ...</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Furside</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><i>With apologies to Longfellow and The Song of Hiawatha<br/>
</i>
----------------------------------- </p><p>Arriving mid-morning Dag had slid into the house dagwise  after a long trip in the saddle, an all-night hard and tricky case with a hurting patient and then an early start for home.  Arkady had gone back to his house.  Fawn had gone visiting and wouldn’t be back for a while. </p><p>Sumac was too baby-busy to notice;  near the fire, she was babysitting for once.  Her babies, their babies and some spares.  </p><p>Dag half-dozed by the fire while some sort of tune tickled the back of his memory.  After a while, his brain awoke enough to wonder where the old tune was coming from.  Not too surprisingly, as he began to listen harder, he recognised it as an old camp rhyme. </p><p> </p><p>
  <i> On the outside grows the furside, on the inside grows the skinside;<br/>
So the furside’s on the outside and the skinside’s on the inside.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>As the furside is on the outside and the skinside is on the inside<br/>
One side likes the skinside inside and thus will put the furside outside,<br/>
Others like the skinside outside and so the furside outside inside;<br/>
Thus the skinside is the hard side and the furside is the soft side.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>If you turn the skinside outside, thinking you will side with that side,<br/>
Then the softside furside's inside, which some argue is the wrong side.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>If you turn the furside outside, as you say it grows on that side<br/>
Then the hard side's next your own side, which for comfort's not the right side</i>
</p><p>
  <i>As the hard side is the cold side, and your skin side's not your warm side;<br/>
So two cold sides aren't the right side, thus must one side sew and decide.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>If you ‘cide to side with this side, turn the outside furside inside;<br/>
Then the hard side, cold side, skin side, beyond all question's inside outside ....</i>
</p><p>
  <i>And it does not matter how you make it, someone'll say the outside's wrongside.   </i>
</p><p>He grunted and his niece realized he was listening.  </p><p>“You should have said you were there. You must’ve crept in mouseish for me not to notice.  You need a drink or anything fetched?  You look fair wiped, yes, no?   And why are you looking at me so strange? And where’s Arkady?”   Never just one question for his niece where four could be squeezed into a single breath. </p><p>“Drifting back on old memories.   Haven’t heard that silliness in ages.  I somehow never expected you to be the one to remind me.  You, the tough old scout dandling babies on your knee.  Ha. Never guessed I’d see it – but you do it well. And Arkady's probably resting next door. He needs botherin' as much as I do.  But a cool drink in a while'd be kinda nice.“</p><p>“Don’t you go all atired and atwitch at me, old Uncle.  And even if it’s a silly song, I like it.  Maybe not as much as the songs YOU sang me – but then you made sure to do those when only I was listening.  Can you imagine what Cumbia might have said?  Ha. Old grizzler that she was.  Can’t remember much of a song anytime from her.  She had her rhymes and rhythms, mind you.  Dar Dar Dag, Dag, Dar, Dar, Dag doesn’t this and Dar does this – Why doesn’t Dag,  oh lovely Dar.  Not nice.  I’m glad we’re miles away.  ……. And if I like to sing a silly for all these babies – then I will.  Fawn does the same – but with farmer songs.”<br/>
I know – I’ve heard her.  But I haven’t heard the furside song for many a year now.  Thank you, dear.”</p><p>“You’re welcome.  Mayhap one or t’other will pass it on.”</p><p>“Like as not.  Time will tell.  Their babies are years away.”</p><p>----------------------------------<br/>
<i>based on a version by Captain Scott's photographer, Herbert George Ponting:</i></p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>